


Awake

by Isilloth



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Maeglin - Damsel in distress, rembodiment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 05:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12952767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isilloth/pseuds/Isilloth
Summary: Maeglin find love in strange place. Or rather love find him.Not very shippy, pre-relationship.





	Awake

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe not very good piece, I just wanted to introduce my character. Enjoy!

By the sound of the waterfall is heard a loud scream. Nolirë stood rapidly, looking for source of noise. She run after it.

By the river, under the slope young man was lying down, grunting quietly. He was conscious and was trying to stand, despite clearly broken leg.

“Wait! I’ll help you!” she came to him. “Don’t stand up, you can hurt yourself!”

He looked at her, eyes big from fear, but he open his mouth.

“Help me?” he said, clearly shocked from fall.

“Do you live nearly? I’ll bring you home, let me help you.”

She stiffened his leg and bring him to her horse.

“Where are we going?” she asked when she took man on horse. An elf, after hesitation, pointed direction. He seemed to be aghast, not only by his leg but also by present of other.

Nolirë tried to by as calm as it was possible, to not upset stranger further. She wasn’t accustomed to others as well. She travel Valinor, looking for.. something, something she didn’t know, but need. And she never stayed longer then few weeks in one place… she didn’t want to be recognized. Recognized as kinslayer, daughter of kinslayers. Of last feanorian who didn’t die.

Maglor, her father, was known everywhere, as well as his wife, Laimisse. But their daughter wasn’t mentioned in most records. Luckily, she would say. Her situation, in this matter was way better than her cousin, Celebrimbor, known everywhere, better maybe than his father. Known and jugded by everyone.

After half an hour of journey they saw little cottage.

“It’s yours?” she asked.

Answer was just quietly muttered by an elf. She helped him to door. Cottage was quite small and without any other homes in sign. Stranger seemingly looked for solitude, just like her. She helped him to house.

Inside there was just few furniture – bed, table and few chairs, kitchen all in one chamber. It looked like if elf was living hermit’s life in the middle of nowhere. Sign that he also could have some people to avoid or past to run from. But he wasn’t one of feanorian, or at least not one she know.

After putting stranger to bed and giving him some medicine for sleep she sat on chair and wait for an elf to wake up again. She realize she didn’t know even the name of stranger in whose home she was going to sleep.

 

Pain wake him up. He looked around with fear. He barely remember past day, or maybe days since he fall from slope. He remember falling. Falling again. It all merged in one terrible nightmare. Falling. Now and then. Now he lived, but he wasn’t sure if it was luck indeed. He should have been more careful but looking down slope cause him to almost faint and fall.

His eyes followed woman who was cooking something in his kitchen. Short red hair, and quite pleasant face, he thought. He saw her night-bar in corner. Without her he could have gone to halls of Mandos again. Not very pleasant perspective. His life may be miserable, but, at least, it was life not disembodied spinning around. His soul was to be healed in Mandos but.. was anyone there really healing? It seemed to him more like place of penance for people like him. Murderers.

“Can you here me?” woman asked and leaned over him.

“Yes” he whispered and lost consciousness.

 

 

 

“What’s your name?” She asked, when he opened his eyes again.

“Morril”

“It suits you well. I’m Nolirë”

“Thank you. You saved my life”

“Anyone would do the same on my place. It was just luck who brings me here”

“I’m not so sure if anyone would. And it was you anyway.”

“I’ll stay with you for while. You can’t be alone now”

“Thank you. You’re wonderful person, and I.. I just don’t know how to thank you.” He smiled, despite pain and anxiety.

 

  


Days flow slowly, and Nolirë grown to like mysterious man who called himself Morril. He may not spoke much but when he did his words was meaningfull. His leg was almost healed and Nolirë was afraid she would have to left, without good excuse to stay.

One day she was awake by Morril’s cry. Man was sweaty and afraid, woken from nightmare. Nolirë went to him, took his hand and pieces of dream was shown to her as well. Darkness and fear. Gaze of great evil, Morgoth. Or so she thought, as she had never faced the Great Foe her parents talk so much.

“Morril, it will be okay. Don’t be afraid, you are save here.” Elf probably was tortured in Angband.

“I’m not Morril” he whispered, quietly, on borders of hearing. “I’m Maeglin, son of Aredhel. And you probably just now regret you save me.”

“I’m not. I’m not better than you in any way. I’m kinslayer, daughter of kinslayers, Maglor son of Feanor. And even if I were innocent like lamb I would rescue. You deserve this, no matter what.”

“We’re both like two peas in the pod I daresay.” Faint smile went through his face – something she didn’t see frequently.

“Indeed, great coincident – two people wanted to hide their identity in this land of honest people.”

 

 

 

 

After this night their relationship changed. Mystery they knew about each other got them closer. Soon Maeglin was healed, but Nolirë didn’t want to leave. And Maeglin didn’t want her to leave. 


End file.
